


Poem Examples

by SaintImperator



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 20:18:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10199078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintImperator/pseuds/SaintImperator
Summary: Examples of My poetry





	

Two excerpts from my collection of poems about imaginary saints 

**Solomnus**

Crease, turnover fold

Is all he was ever told

 

Stack the boxes ever higher

Work to please the faceless choir

 

Every night his fingers bleed

Fold the boxes, curse the need

 

And when the sun has rose at last

Drive them back into your past

 

Working while the world is paused

For every unknown unjust cause

 

He finds lost objects from years gone past

And completes eye-glazing repetitive tasks

 

Working time that’s never measured

A punishment, gift by one he had treasured

 

St. Solomnus never grows old

St. Solomnus never gets bold

 

In his youth did all the favors

Mixed up all the soda flavors

 

Mountains of potatoes peeled and fried

Working so hard he didn’t notice he’d died

 

Savior of the working man

Gives back any way he can

 

Behind the counter, find him there

Known by his star-dusted hair

 

Name tag reads Francis, his own long lost

Ask him what a cheese pizza cost

 

He’ll ask for toppings, choose the right one

With your receipt the bargains begun

 

St. Solomnus works while you chow down

Doing work throughout the town

 

Be sure to tip when he returns

Or face his wrath when he feels spurned

 

St. Solomnus, a small reprieve

The saint all retail-workers need

 

 

**Socorro**

“Socorro”

She found me

Way down where the cold winds blow

“Socorro”

She followed me

Where no one else would go

 

I couldn’t turn around

Because she wouldn’t understand

I’d made a deal with death himself

A bargain that cost me my hands

 

So depressed

Alone distressed

The deal had seemed so fair

But when I woke

Attempt to spoke

The words were no longer there

 

A black sludge drip

Came off my lip

 

And soon I found

That not a sound

 

Yes not a word

At all was herd

 

 

He’d taken my language too

 

“Socorro”

She called me

But I didn’t turn around

“Socorro”

She hollered

But I blocked out the sound

 

I had to clock in, thus faster strode

Racing down the lonely road

If I was late today

He’d dock my pay

 

Employed to the only man

Who could understand

The words I spoke anymore

Threw my days away

Washing up decay

Scrubbing bloodstains off the floor

 

Saint Socorro can be summoned

One second before you expire

To warn you of the consequences

Should you give in to desire

 

You’ll see him over your shoulder

Hear his footsteps but not what he’s said

Take heed of Saint Socorro’s warning

Or find yourself the working dead


End file.
